Chapter 14
PILLOW WALL, SHMILLOW WALL
ASHER
I can’t stop tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable on the floor despite how many blankets I have piled under me.
I also can’t help being hyperaware of every little sound Raya makes.
The memory of her pulse thrumming beneath her skin when I trapped her in the pool the other night is on repeat in my brain, torturing my vampiric senses.
She takes deep, slow breaths, like she’s willing her body to succumb to sleep, although I can tell it’s not working.
When I roll over again, she huffs, and my eyes fly open.
“Ugh. Just get up here,” Raya’s voice carries an edge of exasperation, the whisper-yell sounding like a canon in the otherwise quiet room. The silence reverberates around us and ricochets through my head as I try to comprehend what she’s implying.
“Can you elaborate?”
“I’m sick of feeling guilty for having the bed and you’re clearly not comfortable and we both need to be our best which means getting a good night’s sleep at least once this week so just…
sleep up here.” She word vomits, then grabs a pillow and shoves it over her face before quickly emerging again to set some ground rules.
“No touching, we’ll build a pillow wall and stay on our own sides, but I don’t want your floor blankets in the bed. ”
I let out a soft chuckle into the safety of the darkened room, but her point is valid. I wouldn’t want ‘floor blankets’ in the bed either.
I raise my head to look at her, but can barely make out her features in the darkened room.
“You sure?” I ask, but she’s already re-arranging the pillows in a line down the middle of the mattress.
I think she attempts to glare at me before pulling back the blankets on what will be my side of the bed and then flopping dramatically back down, facing away from the pillow wall and curling up with another huff.
I tuck myself in as quickly and quietly as I can, then proceed to not fall asleep for hours as I strain my self control, refusing to even glance in her direction.
It’s much harder said than done, but I manage for the most part.
Unfortunately, I can’t turn my ears or nose off, so I’m forced listen to her resting peacefully next to me as her sweet scent surrounds us until I finally drift off, wondering if I’ll see her in my dreams again.
Raya is on my side of the bed, wrapped around me like a koala with her legs entwined with mine, an arm flung over my chest, and her face nuzzled right into my neck.
I both love and hate this moment. I’ve been dreaming of her body flush against mine ever since The Hug.
The Hug, when she smashed through all the walls and boundaries I’ve spent my entire life building around my body, mind, and heart, taking everything I have and claiming it as her own.
The Hug that taught me how to hug. The Hug that made me feel things I’ve never truly felt before, things I used to dream of feeling, but gave up on long ago.
The Hug that felt like it twined our souls together.
I squeeze my eyes shut, and it’s then that I realize this isn’t like those other dreams. This moment has that ethereal quality in between dreaming and waking where you still have one foot in each realm.
I tip one eye open the smallest sliver so I can peek down at her.
Raya has somehow completely obliterated the pillow wall.
It’s nowhere to be found, and my brain is clearly not functioning yet because the only thought I have is how can someone with such terrible morning breath possibly be so beautiful?
The obvious answer is that it’s impossible.
I’m still in that dream world imagining her warmth against me, with all her soft curves perfectly fitting into my hard planes.
Her plush lips barely brushing against my neck every few seconds.
Her honey-blonde hair boldly fanned across my shoulder and pillow as though it has every right to be there.
The toned muscle of her leg snug against mine with the sheets tangled around them, tying us together.
Maybe if I close my eyes I’ll go back to sleep fully, and then when I wake up things will be back to normal, pillow wall and all.
I close both eyes again, focusing on falling asleep, breathing deep and slow.
It doesn’t work.
I can’t focus on anything other than her.
Her sweet, strawberry coconut scent. Her petal-soft skin.
Her beautiful brown eyes, hazy with sleep, blinking up at me.
Wait.
I startle, a small jump in my muscles that causes her eyes to fly open. Raya practically leaps away from me, though the tangled sheets make it impossible, so she ends up flopping around like a fish out of water.
I try to hold in my mirth. I really do, but it’s such an unbelievable situation, and the uncoordinated, flailing limbs next to me are a sight to behold.
The laugh bubbles up from deep in my chest, a full, joyous feeling overcoming me as it releases into the world.
Raya freezes, wavy hair falling into her face, a cluster of limbs and sheets, and stares at me with her jaw hanging open.
It’s such a comical scene that it only encourages my laughter.
A fleeting worry that she’ll be offended by my outburst passes through my mind, but before I can even acknowledge it, she’s cracking up right along with me.
Her eyes crinkle at the corners and a belly laugh like I’ve never heard bursts out of her. She howls with laughter, then wraps her arms around her stomach as she leans forward. My sides are starting to hurt with the force of my own laughter.
“What is happening?! “ she manages to croak out, and we both wipe tears from our eyes.
“I think we’re laughing, sunshine," I reply.
I’ve never laughed until I cried before, and I’m not sure whether I like it, what with the stomach cramp and aching cheeks and all.
It feels too open, too vulnerable, like I’m exposing my soft heart to a potentially deadly flame, unsure how close I can get before it starts to burn.
The light reverberating out of her is worth it though.
I haven’t had much joy or happiness in my life, but it’s one of those things you don’t realize you’re missing until it shows up.
Now, I look back and see my life in shades of grey.
Loneliness, depression, rejection… I grew up never being enough for my parents.
Not ruthless enough, not hungry enough, not smart enough or big enough or ambitious enough, and all of it is still true.
I’ve never fit into their world, and even when I accepted that and did my best to cut ties, my world stayed relatively grey.
A lighter shade maybe, but still grey.
Until Raya. She struck me like a laser beam of undiluted euphoria. At first, she scalded me with her brightness; I’m not used to color or light in my world, so being in close proximity to it—to her—was blinding.
Now, I can’t look away. I’ve become addicted to everything about her, from her strange little shifts, to her kindness and warmth, to her competency and resilience. She never gives up, never quits, and never seems to lose that inner spark.
She’s radiant in her joy, and I want to soak in every single drop.
There’s a strange sense of hesitant camaraderie between us now. We go about our normal morning routines, but the quiet isn’t uptight. It’s more… a comfortable tension. A soft, shimmering thread pulled taut between us.
I’m not sure what to make of it. Raya no longer appears to despise me, if our morning koala situation and ensuing laughing fit is anything to go by, and she’s gifted me a couple easy smiles since then too.
I have a working theory that her smaller smiles are more genuine, compared to the beaming, blinding things she tends to throw out to strangers and coworkers. I’ve seen the quieter ones when she’s talking on the phone, I assume with either family or friends, and they’re stunning.
I want them for myself.
Just like I want everything else about her.
We complete an informal breathing and grounding session together after eating and brushing our teeth, then the two of us head down the elevator and across the street.
As my job is mainly behind the scenes, it’s likely to be another boring day for me.
I’m looking forward to the meetings with Raya though, if only so I have a reason to stay present and engaged.
Can’t be caught daydreaming like a fool if I want a chance with her.
… since when do I want a chance with her?
Telling my fangs to simmer down, I figure I must be low on blood intake. I refocus on the morning of endless meetings, wondering why it feels like ten years have gone by, yet every time I check my watch it’s only been a few minutes.
Finally, the last meeting before the lunch break starts, which is also the first meeting we’re both attending today.
I arrive first, and I nudge the chair next to me with my knee, pulling it out for Raya as soon as I see her walk in.
My insides glow when she smiles her thanks, the grin turning softer as she sits down next to me and crosses one graceful leg over the other.
I try my best not to leer, but it’s impossible not to notice her.
She’s wearing another of those fitted, textured skirts she seems to like that barely reach her lower thighs.
This one is navy blue with brass buttons running from the outside of her left thigh up to her inner left hip.
Her usual flowy top is tucked in, and the low neckline has ruffles that tie into a bow right between her breasts.
It’s somehow professional while also being sexy and cute at the same time.
Now that I’m in her presence again, my mind keeps replaying the feel of her wrapped around me this morning. An increasingly hard situation to deal with.
Raya keeps glancing at me from the corner of her eye, and I wonder if she knows how wound up I am over her. Never have I been the kind of person who can’t sit still, but apparently she brings out the most juvenile responses in me, barely controlled fangs at the top of that ever-expanding list.
Eager to take her to lunch (hopefully she agrees), I don’t even realize I’m drumming my fingers on the table until she taps my knuckles with her pen.
I immediately flatten my hand before balling it into a fist and hiding both hands in my lap.
Raya’s lips tip up the slightest bit at my reaction, and I immediately feel antsy again.
This is ridiculous; how can one person affect me in such a way? I’m not acting remotely like myself anymore.
I practically jump out of my own skin at the feel of her hand on my thigh a few minutes later, stalling the bouncing I must have been doing.
“Stop it, you’re shaking the whole table," she whispers out the side of her mouth, completely oblivious to the effect she’s having on me as she pulls her hand away, leaving sparks of heat in its wake.
I scrub a hand over my face and adjust in my seat. Checking my watch again, I thank whatever deity might be listening that this meeting is nearly over.
“Lunch?” I ask as soon as everyone starts moving and packing up. My voice comes out more gruff than I intended, and I wince at the look on her face.
But then Raya tilts her head; the feline motion is smooth and graceful, something I’ve noticed she does frequently. She blinks, deliberately, I think.
I clear my throat and try again.
“Sorry, I meant, would you like to go grab some food?”
“I certainly planned too.” Her lips are pursed, her best attempt to hide a mischievous grin if the twinkle in her eye is any indication, and it loosens something in my chest.
I roll my eyes as she stands.
“I meant with me.”
“Ah, why didn’t you say so?” Raya is already flouncing her way toward the door before she finishes speaking, and she spins around, walking backward for a couple steps as she scrunches her nose at me playfully.
I don’t miss the glimmer of amusement in her gaze as she turns forward again with a cheerful, “Let’s go then! ”
My lonely heart shudders to life in my chest.
Raya chatters as we walk toward Little Italy. She also chatters throughout lunch.
I can only try to keep up. This is a new side of her; I’ve seen her act this way with others, but she’s always been reserved and cautious around me.
If anyone else talked to me this much, I’d be out the door in two minutes flat, but Raya’s voice is like music to my ears.
She soothes me in a way I didn’t know I needed, and I want to hear every word she has to say.
It seems like she’s finally letting down her walls, and I’m terrified of messing up.
If this is my chance, I don’t want to lose it, so I do what I can to match her, letting my walls down a bit too.
I hold doors open and flag down a waiter when her water needs refilled.
I lightly tug her arm so she doesn’t step in a suspicious looking substance on the sidewalk.
I offer comments here and there, ask questions and hoard every small piece of her she shares with me, all while doing my best not to sigh in contentment at the warmth I feel being near her.
I can’t tell if she’s exceptionally good at ignoring it, or if she’s oblivious to my infatuation—because yes, I’ve decided to face the music and accept the truth.
I’m mildly obsessed with her, and I’m already planning some new stretches I can teach her tonight to go with the breathing we’ve been doing.
I should probably be worried at the lengths I’d go to in order to get my hands on her, to feel her skin against mine again, and to bask in her sweet scent.